


I Have But One Heart

by hapakitsune



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: M/M, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-03
Updated: 2012-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-28 20:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hapakitsune/pseuds/hapakitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eduard had been told since childhood that emotions had no place in business, but Mark had always been his exception. Mafia fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Have But One Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pinch-hit [tsnsecretsanta](http://tsnsecretsanta.livejournal.com) for the darling [hitslikehammers](http://hitslikehammers.livejournal.com) who managed to resist not one but TWO sneak attempts to figure out what she wanted in more detail. I hope you like this, dear; I figured if anyone would appreciate drama and angst like this, it would be you. Thanks to [ellot](http://ellot.livejournal.com) for looking this over and to [daisysusan](http://daisysusan.livejournal.com) for doing that and also listening to me whine all the time.
> 
> A few notes on the actual story: this is heavily inspired by, though not really based on, _The Godfather_ and in particular my professor saying that it's a film about business. There are a few direct scene references to the film, but it's not necessary to know it. The title is taken from a song sung in the film.
> 
> I have also made up a great deal about the Brazilian mafia, as I couldn't find much information about them. I have referenced the Five Families, who still operate in the United States, but everyone mentioned is fictional.

“You can’t let emotions get in the way of business,” Eduardo’s father had always said, and he said it again when Eduardo told him about Facebook. “This thing with your Mark boy, make sure you know everything.”

“It isn’t like that with him,” Eduardo said defiantly. “It’s not like your business, Pai. I don’t need to use a gun with him. He’s my friend. I trust him.”

“Don’t be naive,” his father said. “You can’t trust anyone.”

*

Eduardo had always been the pacifist of the family. He knew how to shoot a gun – you didn’t get to the age of eleven in the Saverin family without firing a gun at least once – but he knew that his father had higher hopes for him, knew that he hoped Eduardo could help turn the family respectable. Eduardo was kept out of the family business as much as possible, even if he was taught to protect himself from an early age and to keep his mouth shut when possible.

Few things rattled Roberto Saverin, but when he got a photo of then eleven year-old Eduardo outside of his private school, his face carefully marked out with a red x, he picked up the family business and moved away from Brazil. Eduardo hadn’t really understood at the time, nor had he understood when his father took him to a shooting range and taught him how to hold a gun in his small hands. Eduardo didn’t like it, but he was eager to please his father and did as he was told.

For the first year they were in America, Eduardo had a bodyguard, a wiry young woman named Maria who spoke five languages fluently and acted more like a nanny most of the time, but also carried a gun and could drop a man in five seconds flat. Eduardo loved her like an older sister and told her everything, not realizing that she was his protector, not his friend.

Eduardo wasn’t told about the full breadth of his father’s empire until he was thirteen and he inadvertently walked in on a meeting his father was conducting regarding the movement of goods from Colombia into Miami. His older brother, Ricardo, was leaning against the wall behind their father, listening intently, and the moment Eduardo walked in, Ric straightened, eyes widening. He hurried Eduardo out into the hall and said, “Pai told me not to let you in – not until you’re older.”

“What is he doing?” Eduardo asked, frowning. His father worked in clothing and textiles, he knew that, and he had known that there was more that he wasn’t privy to, but his father had been talking about weapons. He had sounded angry.

Ric sighed and muttered under his breath, “ _Maldita_.” He looked at Eduardo for a moment, then said, “Pai has been trying to protect you for so long, Edu. Just go to your room for now and I promise I’ll tell you everything you want tonight, okay?”

So Eduardo went upstairs and did his homework, but his hands shook as he thought about some of the people who came to the house, great hulking men and stern-faced women who sometimes limped or had stains on their clothing. Eduardo had ignored it as best he could, but he thought now that he understood who those people were.

True to his word, Ric came up that night and sat down across from Eduardo, his face very serious. “Edu, you can’t talk about this, you know that, right?” he asked. When Eduardo nodded, he let out a breath. “All right. I’m going to explain this the way Pai told me.”

*

When Eugenio Saverin had fled Germany for Brazil, he had very little to his name. But he was clever and ruthless and quickly amassed a small fortune by forcing his way into the clothing industry. He hired thugs to manipulate his suppliers and intimidate his competition, and he soon became known as a man who got things done, no matter what. Other immigrants came to him for help with the authorities or thieves, and Eugenio spread his operations out to include protection – in exchange for favors, of course. By the time his first son was born, he had become the head of an intensely powerful criminal organization, all fronted by the clothing factories he owned and maintained.

They spread operations throughout Mexico and the southern United States, placing his brother-in-law in a prime position in Miami that Roberto would later inherit after moving to Florida. Roberto’s younger brother kept the business in Brazil running, and Roberto became the head of a now multi-national organization that dealt occasionally in weapons and drugs, but mostly in political and economic fraud.

That was business for the Saverin family; trust was for the weak. Power, that was the true guarantee of faithfulness. And Roberto intended to be powerful.

*

When Eduardo went to Harvard, he could only remember his father telling him, “You can’t trust anyone.” Eduardo had, by that time, witnessed the maneuvering his father had to do to keep the peace with other crime families, many of which were more powerful and more well-established than they were. He had listened as his father and Ric discussed the value of their men, dispassionately listing the qualities and vices of each. He had seen Maria beat a man who had tried to attack Eduardo, her face stoic as she rendered him unconscious. He thought he knew what his father meant – but he also believed it would be different outside his father’s sphere of influence. He was determined to prove to his father that emotions, and trust, could coexist with business, and Mark was the one he would prove it with.

As it turned out, he was wrong.

*

The look of shock on Mark’s face when Eduardo shattered his laptop satisfied him in a deep, visceral way. Eduardo had never been a violent man, but he saw now the truth in his father’s opinion of force. Now he had Mark’s attention, his respect – and he would keep it, he thought, leaning down to spit in Mark’s face, furious that he had chosen _this_ person to put his trust in.

It took two calls to bring Sean down – one to a drug contact in Palo Alto, the other to a receptive cop. Eduardo did it from a pay phone and then wiped down the places he touched, determined to be thorough. He got back into the waiting car and said, “SFO.”

If he were anyone else’s son, he would have threatened Mark with a lawsuit, would have taken Mark’s company for everything it would give him – but he knew well that he wouldn’t survive any background check and Mark would win simply by virtue of the fact that he was raised by a dentist and a therapist in upstate New York.

In the end, all he needed was to exert a little pressure in the right places, and his name was restored to the Facebook masthead along with five percent in the company. Eduardo thanked the men in person and paid them handsomely, wondering if Mark knew what had happened or if he had just been told by Thiel and Sean to offer Eduardo a truce.

*

As soon as he had graduated, Eduardo settled in New York, working as a consultant and avoiding contact with his family and anyone he knew in college. He occasionally met people who knew the Saverin name, but he would say simply that he was not affiliated with his father’s work. And he preferred it that way; he may have learned that his father was right when it came to business, but it didn’t mean he wanted to join the family.

He might have continued his life that way, finding a pleasant girlfriend who wouldn’t know that the name Saverin could get some people to hand over their money without question, his brother taking over the business – but then late one December night, Eduardo got a call.

“Edu,” Ric said, his voice weak and thin through the phone. “Pai is sick. He wants you to come home.”

“How sick is he?” asked Eduardo, straightening up in bed and trying not to wake his girlfriend, a kind if mildly boring woman named Olivia.

“He might not have long left,” Ric said. “You have to come home, Edu. He misses you.”

“What’s going on, Ric?” he asked, frowning. “What aren’t you telling me? Is it cancer?”

“No,” said Ric, sighing. “It’s not cancer. Just come _home_ , Edu.”

“Then what?” Eduardo clutched the phone tighter, waiting.

There was a long pause. Then Ric finally said, “One of the other families, they tried to have him killed. He’s been shot. That’s why he wants you home. He wants to talk about the business.”

“I’m not –”

“I know, everyone knows,” Ric snapped. “That’s not the point, Eduardo. Just come home, will you?” He hung up before Eduardo had a chance to say anything else. Eduardo closed the phone and squeezed his eyes shut.

Next to him, Olivia stirred and asked groggily, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Eduardo said quietly. “Go back to sleep.”

*

His father looked unnaturally small in the hospital bed, pallid and sickly. Eduardo sat next to his mother, whose face was pale but set; she had clearly cried herself out before he arrived. He took her hand and squeezed it gently.

“What did the doctor say?” he asked quietly.

“He’ll recover,” she said. “They were able to extract the bullets, but – it’s going to be a long time.” She reached out and took Roberto’s hand, lip trembling. “He’ll be glad to see you.”

“I thought he was disappointed in me,” Eduardo said. “I screwed everything up, Mamãe. I lost us money –”

“No,” she said firmly. “He could never be disappointed in you. He was so proud when you got into Harvard, Edu. He doesn’t care about that.”

Eduardo looked at his father’s face and sighed. “If you say so.”

His mother left to get dinner, leaving Eduardo alone in case his father woke up again. Eduardo, exhausted from his flight, dozed off in the chair. He woke when his father stirred, saying, “Água.”

Eduardo groped for the water pitcher and poured his father a glass. He helped Roberto sit up so he could wet his mouth and was alarmed by the frailty of his father’s body. Roberto looked blearily at him and said, “Eduardo. You came.”

“Yes, Pai,” Eduardo said, scooting his chair closer to the bed. “I came. How are you feeling?”

“Better, now you’re here,” murmured Roberto. He reached out and touched Eduardo’s face gently. “How is your work going?”

Eduardo bit his lip and swallowed hard. “It’s going fine, Pai. I’m – I’m sorry about Facebook. I should have listened to what you said. You can’t depend on friendship.”

Roberto huffed out a breathy chuckle. “I hoped you were right, Eduardo. I wanted you to be right about your friend. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

“Pai,” Eduardo whispered, taking his father’s hand. “Pai, I –”

Roberto waved his hand. “I never wanted this life for you, Eduardo. Your brother, he’s strong. But you’re something special. I just wanted to prepare you but – I think I pushed you too hard. You could restore the Saverin name, Eduardo. You could get out of this life.”

“I’m a Saverin,” said Eduardo. “I don’t think I can ever escape our legacy.”

His father shook his head without replying. Eduardo watched over him until his father fell asleep again, and thought dark thoughts about the men who had tried to kill him.

*

Eduardo adjusted his stance and lifted the gun again. His forearms shook a little, but they steadied as he let out a breath. When he fired, the first shot went through the shoulder of the target. Maria let out an approving noise. Eduardo adjusted his aim and fired again.

Ric had to shout to be heard. “Edu, why are we here?”

Eduardo turned to look at his brother and stared at him. “You know who tried to kill Pai, Ric.”

Ric looks back, eyes narrowed. “Edu –”

“Tell me,” Eduardo said sharply, his voice coming out harsh and cold.

Ric sighed. “It was the Salvieri brothers,” he said quietly. “We think they were working for the Rosatos, because Pai has been edging in on their imports.” He shrugged. “We don’t have the strength to take them down completely.”

“You only need one person to remind them that we’re not to be trifled with,” Eduardo said.

“Edu,” Ric murmured, shaking his head. “Don’t do this. You’re better than this.”

“You were there,” Eduardo snapped. “You saw them gun him down like an animal. How can you just _let that go_? They disrespected us.” He clenched his free hand into a fist. “The Saverins should mean something, Ric.”

“Edu, what are you planning?” Ric asked. His hands were shaking, Eduardo noticed clinically. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you?”

“They need to pay for what they did, Ric,” Eduardo said. “We are not to be treated this way. And if you won’t, then I will.”

“Are you sure this is about Pai?” Ric asked.

Instead of answering, Eduardo lifted his gun again and fired three neat shots into the target.

*

Singapore was hot and gorgeous, and it reminded Eduardo a lot of Miami, only it was far more orderly. He knew that no one would expect to find him there, and no one knew he had killed the Salvieri brothers anyway, but he couldn’t help jumping at every unexpected sound for the first month he was there. Sometimes he dreamed about it, remembering the stunned looks on their faces when he had returned from the bathroom with a gun in his hand. He dreamed about saying, “Your bosses are fucking cowards,” before pulling the trigger, three neat shots for each brother.

One year, he and Ric had agreed; one year and Eduardo could return home. He could hide behind his investments in the meantime and present the image of a playboy businessman while the hunt for the person who had killed the Salvieri brothers died down.

And then Eduardo could return home and finish what he started.

*

Eduardo had never planned on taking over his family’s business. He hadn’t imagined himself as the head; he didn’t think he had what it took.

But as he stood at the head of the long table, looking at the familiar faces of his father’s closest allies, he felt like he had finally found his place. He waited for them to fall silent and, one by one, they ceased talking and turned to look at him.

“Thank you for coming,” he said calmly. “As I’m sure you know, my father has been in poor health since the assassination attempt last year. You have done an admirable job of keeping the business alive in his stead – but it’s time I returned home to my rightful place.”

There were murmurs of approval around the table. Eduardo lifted his hands and they fell silent once more. He could see the respect in their eyes – fear, too. He knew that they all must have heard what he had done to the Salvieri brothers, even if wasn’t discussed openly. He smiled without much humor.

“My father and my brother will be advising me as we re-establish ourselves as a force to be reckoned with,” he said. “We will teach them that they should not have underestimated us.”

When they left an hour later, each man kissed Eduardo’s ring, murmuring, “Graças, chefe,” as they did so. Eduardo smiled and knew he had earned their respect.

*

The envelope came on a Tuesday, addressed in a neat, flowing script: _Eduardo Saverin_. Ric opened it for him and pulled out a glossy photo along with a note — _We have your boy. Meet with us, on our terms, and he goes free._

Eduardo looked down at Mark’s wide, terrified eyes, and remembered his father saying, “You don’t let emotions get in the way of the business, Eduardo.”

But Mark had always been the exception to that.

He set the photo on the table so Maria and Ric could see it. Ric sucked in a surprised breath and said, “Eduardo, that’s –”

“Yeah,” Eduardo said. He tapped his chin. “It’s the Rosatos.”

“They have people in San Francisco,” Maria said, her voice tight and angry. “I can’t believe – you _don’t_ go after civilians.”

“They want to get me alone,” Eduardo said. He smiled. “They’re frightened.”

“I told you we should take it slower,” Ric said, pacing. “Do you know what this could do? _Why are you smiling?_ ”

“They’ve made a mistake,” Eduardo said coldly. “They should have asked for money. They could have had my respect if they asked for money, or if they had dealt with me like _business_ men, but they’ve brought Mark into it _and that was a mistake_.” He let out a breath, his rage subsiding a little.. “Ric, I need you to go to California. Talk to Facebook’s people. Tell Dustin – tell him you’re my brother.” Eduardo rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Find out when he was taken. Maria – we need to find out where he’s being held.”

“On it.” Maria inclined her head briefly before turning towards the door. Ric looked at Eduardo for a long moment, then reached out and squeezed his shoulder before following her. Eduardo, alone now, allowed himself a moment to touch Mark’s face. His father would say he was being weak – but Mark was also the head of a major website and his murder would rock the tech world to its core. The investigation would draw attention to the circumstances of the murder and that – well, that would lead to Eduardo, and they couldn’t have that. A disappearance of a few days could be covered up.

 _How could they have known?_ he wondered, sliding the photo back into the envelope. How could they have known that, even now, Eduardo would always come for Mark? He thought he had covered that up well; he hadn’t even had anyone keep an eye on Mark for him, though he had been tempted. He hadn’t spoken to anyone from Facebook since he had brought Sean down.

But maybe that had been the problem. He had avoided them – had avoided Mark – with too much dedication to be truly detached. Eduardo breathed out slowly, relaxing his hands and calming his emotions. He would have to be dispassionate to deal with this.

When he exited the room, his cousin Elisa was waiting, her arms crossed. “Do you think they’ll hurt him?” she asked, getting right down to the point.

“It’s more dangerous to them if they do,” Eduardo said, walking down the hall to his father’s office. “He’s too high profile. But –” He shrugged. “They know he has more ties to me. I’m likely to be incriminated.”

“They can’t be stupid enough to murder the CEO of Facebook just because you took out their _capos_ ,” she said, as if taking out the main organizational structure of the Rosatos had been nothing more than a petty squabble. He looked at her in disbelief. She shook her head emphatically. “They’re not that stupid, Eduardo.”

“They don’t want him dead, they want _me_ dead.” Eduardo smiled thinly. “That, I can respect. But you don’t bring outsiders into our feud. It’s against what we do.”

“But he’s your weakness,” she said quietly. “You need to fix that, Eduardo.” She turned away from him, her boots clicking on the floor. Eduardo took a breath, staring at the door to his father’s study, then pushed the door open.

“Pai,” he said, “we have a problem.”

His father listened in silence while Eduardo outlined the situation. Roberto’s expression grew very dark as Eduardo mentioned the conditions the Rosatos had set and clenched his hands into fists.

“They have gone too far this time,” Roberto said icily when Eduardo had finished. “We _don’t_ involve civilians, they _know_ that! What on earth are they thinking?”

“They think they can intimidate us into scaling back our operations,” Eduardo said. “They want me out of the picture.”

Roberto nodded. “They miss their power,” he said. “Thank you, Eduardo. Send Elisa in here; I will need to speak with the other Families.”

Eduardo nodded and went to find his cousin. She sighed heavily when he relayed the message and went in to join his father. Eduardo watched the door for a moment, then went to brood in his office.

The next few hours were a flurry of communications and visits from members of the other Families. Eduardo sat in the meetings along with his father, saying little. His father was still the public face of the Saverins, even if Eduardo and Ric carried out most of the heavy lifting. Roberto could command a room with the power of his stare, and he bent each visitor to his will with a few careful words.

The other Families were not happy when they heard what the Rosatos had done, and pledged their support to the Saverins for anything they would need. Some of them even gave Eduardo words of sympathy as they left. Eduardo tried not to feel apprehensive about the number of people who knew about Mark; Roberto would not have told anyone he thought would betray them.

Eduardo slept very little that night. His dreams were plagued by Mark, by the memories of Mark sprawled out on the Kirkland sofa, of Mark smiling up at him and telling him they had expanded to five campuses, of Mark’s face when Eduardo had broken his laptop. Of Mark’s face in that photo, so familiar even through the bindings and the mask of fear.

He rose early and waited to hear from Ric. He received a text message at seven a.m. reading, _arrived at SFO, on my way_ , and he let out a shaky breath.

He napped, feeling better knowing that his brother would take care of Dustin, and was awoken by Elisa prodding him in the shoulder.

“Phone,” she said brusquely, thrusting out her hand.

Eduardo took it and said, “Hello.”

“Eduardo, what the hell is going on?” demanded Chris on the phone. Eduardo glared at Elisa, who glared right back and hissed, “We can’t just _ignore_ him.”

“You can talk to my lawyer if you have any questions,” Eduardo said, trying to give the phone back to Elisa. “She can tell you anything you want to know.”

“No, Eduardo. We were friends once. I _deserve better_ than that. _Mark_ deserves better than that.” Chris sounded angrier than Eduardo had ever heard before, his faint drawl vanishing completely as his words became clipped and sharp. “Why the hell is your brother sniffing around here, asking when Mark disappeared? Do you know how freaked out Dustin is? Or how –”

“Shut up,” Eduardo said without thinking, putting an extra bit of steel into his voice.

There was a deadly, horrible silence on the other end. Eduardo forced himself not to flinch or wince, standing straight and tall.

When Chris spoke again, his voice was low and poisonous. “Just because you’re a mafioso now or whatever – yes, I know what you do, Eduardo, you think I don’t have to hush that up every time people look into our investors? You don’t get to tell me to shut up.”

“Fine,” Eduardo snapped, hand clenching on the phone. “I will get Mark back for you, Chris, I promise. It’s my fault he’s been taken, I will find him, okay?”

“Can you at least tell me what is going on?” Chris asked. He suddenly sounded unexpectedly sad, and Eduardo swallowed hard. He had liked Chris, liked his idealism and his sheer faith in humanity. Eduardo had envied him a little; only someone who had lived a truly innocent childhood could be that starry-eyed.

“You know I can’t do that,” Eduardo said quietly. “But – I have enemies, Chris, and they know – they know Mark is important to me.”

“Is he?” Chris asked. “Still?”

Eduardo swallowed and said, “Of course he is.”

Chris was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Okay. I’ll trust you with this. Just get him back home.”

“I will,” Eduardo promised.

*

“I found where they’re keeping him,” Maria said two days later, setting a folder down on Eduardo’s desk. Elisa picked it up and flipped it open, her mouth pressed into a narrow line. “It’s got heavy guards; they really want you to meet them.”

“Yes,” Eduardo said, tapping his fingers. “Do we have the muscle to get through to him?”

“I’m not sure,” Maria admitted. “We may need to call in some favors. They’re not taking any chances.”

“We need proof of life,” Elisa said abruptly, flinging the folder away. “You shouldn’t deal with them unless you know Zuckerberg is safe.”

“They’re not going to kill him,” Eduardo said tiredly, rubbing his face. “Even the Rosatos aren’t stupid enough to do that.”

“So what are you going to do?” asked Elisa, crossing her arms. “They want to meet with you.”

“Yes,” Eduardo agreed. “I know. And they’ll have a bullet waiting for me.” He got to his feet and picked up the folder. He didn’t open it, not wanting to see what it contained. He weighed it in his hand, thinking about Mark, wondering if he was scared or angry or in pain. He swore to himself that if the Rosatos had harmed a hair on Mark’s head, he would make them understand why the Saverins were the most respected family in Brazil.

He ran a hand through his hair, thinking. “It’s more important to get Mark out safely,” he said slowly. He looked at Maria, who nodded. “That is the priority here. I will go with you to get Mark. Ric can keep the Rosatos occupied until then. Who should we send with him? I want him safe.”

“Javier and Matt,” she replied instantly. “We will need to draw the guards from the warehouse. We can marshal our men, but we don’t want a full-on firefight.”

“No, of course not,” Eduardo said distractedly, already thinking about who he would bring. “All right. Let’s get to it.”

*

Eduardo was not a warrior at heart. He preferred negotiation to violence or threats, and he took no great pleasure in killing people. But when he strode into the tiny, dark room they were keeping Mark in, he did not hesitate a moment before shooting the guard in the shoulder. Mark jerked and let out a startled noise like a whimper and pressed himself back into the corner of the room, where he had a makeshift bed. His eyes were covered and his hands were bound behind his back. Eduardo noted with some pride that the guard, who was clutching his shoulder, had nail marks on his face.

Eduardo holstered his gun and knelt in front of Mark. “Mark,” he said as quietly and gently as he could. “It’s Eduardo. “I’m going to take your blindfold off.”

“Wardo?” Mark croaked. “You can’t – I’m going crazy, aren’t I.”

“No.” Eduardo reached out and touched Mark’s cheek. “You’re not. Don’t freak out.” He carefully took the blindfold from Mark’s eyes and waited while Mark blinked, his pupils slowly contracting back to a more normal size.

Mark looked awful, his curly hair lank and greasy against his skull. The skin under his eyes was so dark that it looked bruised, and there was a fading green bruise on his left cheek. He had gnawed his lower lip until it cracked and bled. Eduardo sighed and cupped Mark’s face in his hands.

“How badly did they hurt you?” he asked. “Turn around, I’ll untie your hands.”

“Not too badly – Wardo, what the fuck is going on?” asked Mark as he turned. Eduardo looked at the zipties keeping Mark’s hands together, then pulled out his pocket knife to cut through it. “Wardo?”

“I’ll explain later,” Eduardo said brusquely. He didn’t like how his chest felt less tight at the sound of the old nickname. “We have to get out of here, though. The rest of your guards will probably be back soon.”

“How did you even _find_ me?” demands Mark as Eduardo finishes cutting the ties. “Is this – Chris and Sean told me – and I checked too, if you think I wouldn’t check – but it didn’t seem like it could be true.” His gaze fell on the moaning guard. “You shot him.”

“Yes,” Eduardo said impatiently. “Now come on, or do I have to drag you?”

That got Mark’s attention. He got to his feet and fell into line behind Eduardo as he moved cautiously out to where Maria was waiting, her gun out. Mark’s eyes widened when he saw it, but he didn’t comment. Maria gestured the two of them on, and they hurried to where she had discreetly parked their car.

“Ric called,” Maria said when they had gotten inside. “He doesn’t think he can hold the Rosatos off for much longer.”

“Fine,” Eduardo said. “Mark, you’ll stay in the car.”

“What?” Mark asked. “No. I’m staying with you.”

“Jesus, Mark,” Eduardo said, frustrated, “these are bad men. They kidnapped you to get to me!”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Eduardo,” Mark said icily, “but you’re not exactly a paragon of virtue any more.”

Eduardo sucked in a sharp breath. Mark looked furious, his eyes narrowed and his mouth set. “Mark –”

“Eduardo, I think he should go with you,” Maria said, interrupting him. “I’ll come in too, cover your back. But they need to see that you’ve taken care of it yourself, otherwise they’ll think they still have leverage over you.”

Mark let out a little, “Ha!” and Eduardo gave Maria a dark look. She met his gaze evenly and he had to admit that she was probably right. He didn’t want to bring Mark in with him; he didn’t want Mark to be witness to what he would have to do.

“We have to keep him between us,” Eduardo said. “And make sure the rest of our –”

“Yes, yes,” Maria interrupted. Eduardo let it slide, because he trusted her and he trusted her judgment. “Just keep Mark close. We have a couple of extra vests in the back.”

“Good,” Eduardo said, distracted by his phone beeping. There was a message from Elisa waiting for him.

 _Your father says the Families will back whatever you choose to do. L Genovese and F Margarelli are in SF. You can use their names._

Eduardo smiled tightly and slipped the phone into his pocket. “We’re set,” he told Maria. “Let’s finish this.”

*

They parked across the street from the warehouse. Eduardo saw Rodrigo, his brother’s bodyguard, standing by a shiny black rental car. Eduardo nodded to him as Maria opened the trunk. Eduardo pulled out one of the spare Kevlar vests and held it out to Mark. Mark immediately shook his head, looking stubborn.

“No,” he said, “no, it’ll be tight, I don’t –”

“You need to put this on, Mark,” Eduardo said sharply. “This isn’t a game.”

“Eduardo –” Mark started.

“Put it _on_ ,” Eduardo ordered, thrusting the vest into Mark’s hands.

Mark looked down at it, biting his lip, then shrugged off his sweatshirt and pulled the vest on without meeting Eduardo’s eyes. Eduardo sighed and reached out to tighten the straps. Mark flinched back and then bit his lip. “I – what are you doing?”

“You have it on wrong,” Eduardo said gently. “It needs to be tighter.” This close and in the sunlight, Eduardo could see the bruises on Mark’s wrists more clearly. Mark didn’t relax even though Eduardo moved slowly and left the vest as loose as he could while making sure it would serve its purpose. When Eduardo stepped back, Mark’s shoulders slumped and he slowly put his filthy hoodie back on, tugging the sleeves down to cover his hands.

“Are you sure you want to come in?” Eduardo asked. “I would prefer it if you stayed with Rodrigo or Maria.”

“I’m staying with you,” Mark said stubbornly. “You aren’t leaving me behind, Wardo.”

“Mark, please –”

“I trust _you_ ,” Mark spat out, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes were narrowed now and he was panting, but Eduardo recognized the stance. “I trust you, not them.”

“You shouldn’t,” Eduardo muttered under his breath. He checked his gun and sighed. “Fine. Maria? Let’s go.”

“Right behind you, _chefe_ ,” she said, and she gently pushed Mark forward to walk between her and Eduardo.

The guards at the door let them pass inside once they saw who it was, and Ric turned from where he stood talking to Antony and Julian Rosato. He nodded sharply at Eduardo.

“Ric,” Eduardo said, inclining his head. “Thank you for taking care of things here.”

“I knew you had more important things to do,” Ric said. Antony frowned, and Eduardo stepped to his right so they could get a clear view of Mark, though he was sure to keep some part of his body between Mark and the brothers.

Antony Rosato started forward, swearing in Italian, but Julian held him back. “You broke our agreement, Saverin,” Antony spat. “You were supposed to meet us here.”

“You really thought I would honor that?” Eduardo scoffed. “After you took Mark as your hostage? When you break the rules, you shouldn’t be surprised when others follow suit.”

“We should have shot him and sent you his cock,” Antony growled, handing inching towards his waist. “That’s what you want from him, isn’t it? They all say the new Saverin boy never chases after any women, just that –”

“Antony, _stari zitto_ ,” snapped Julian.

“Why?” Antony shook his brother off. “That little cocksucker Jew landed Nicholas in the hospital with how hard he kicked him. We should have just killed him!”

Eduardo felt another brief surge of pride at hearing how Mark had fought back, but it was quickly replaced with cold rage as Antony pulled out his gun and aimed it at Mark. Without thinking, Eduardo moved to stand between Mark and the gun, pulling out his own weapon. His hands were steady as he aimed at Antony’s head. “This is your last chance, Antony,” he said. “You’ve made mistake after mistake, but this is the last one you’ll ever make. Stand down.”

“Fuck you,” Antony spat. “You and your spic Jewish family –”

“Very well,” Eduardo said, more calmly than he felt. “Mark, close your eyes.” He didn’t look to see if Mark obeyed before he leveled his gun at Antony’s throat and pulled the trigger.

Antony dropped like a stone, blood gushing from his throat. Julian started forward, teeth bared in a snarl. Eduardo turned his gun on him. “No,” he said coldly. “You’ve tried to kill my father. You kidnapped my friend. I’ve stayed well away from your family, except to take care of the men who shot my father in the back. You don’t play by the rules and the other families are starting to notice.”

At this, Julian faltered. He stared at Eduardo for a moment, then said, “How do I know you’re not lying?”

“Louisa Genovese and Frank Margarelli are visiting San Francisco,” Eduardo said, reaching into his pocket to pull out his cell phone. “You can call them, if you want. We don’t involve civilians, Julian. I didn’t think you were stupid enough to make that mistake, but you were, and I have been given full support to remind you of your place. Give me a reason not to kill you like your idiot brother and I’ll let the other families know you cooperated.”

“Why would they listen to you?” demanded Julian. “You’re not even Italian.”

“No,” agreed Eduardo, “but we follow the rules and we’re _respectful_. From the moment your father died and you two idiots took over, they’ve been looking for an excuse to get rid of your whole operation. And now you’ve given it to them. So put your gun down, get the hell out of here, and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

“I want terms,” Julian said, voice shaking.

“We can discuss that later,” Eduardo said coldly. “Ric, you think you can handle that?”

“Of course,” Ric said. Julian gave a start, as though he had forgotten Ric was still there. “We can meet with Louisa and Frank.” Ric smiled very nastily. “I am sure they will have some choice words for you, Julian.”

Julian held up his hands. “Fine,” he said after a moment. “Tomorrow.” He began to back out of the warehouse, whistling for his men.

“Don’t worry about getting us your number,” Ric called after him. “We have it already.” Julian cursed and fled out the backdoor. Ric glanced at Eduardo and smiled wryly. “How much says he’s halfway to Mexico by tomorrow morning?”

“Maybe,” Eduardo said, “but either way we win.” He holstered his gun. “If he leaves the country, we get a new boss who will want to kiss up to the families. If he meets you tomorrow, you can frighten him into compliance.”

“What a little shit,” Ric muttered, spitting on Antony’s body. “Idiots. That’s no way of doing business.” He heaved a sigh and nodded towards Mark. “You’d better get him home.”

“Yes,” Eduardo agreed. He looked cautiously around at Mark and saw that Mark was staring fixedly at Antony’s body. “Mark? Mark!”

Mark jerked a little and looked at Eduardo with huge eyes. “Yeah?”

“We’re going back to the car, okay? Come on.” Eduardo gently took Mark’s elbow and led him outside, Maria covering them. Once they were outside, Eduardo unlocked the car as Maria looked around, her brow creased. She hadn’t lowered her gun; Eduardo glanced around and saw that Rodrigo and Ric were checking the perimeter.

Ric looked over and called, “We’re good, Edu. Meet you back –”

“Yeah,” Eduardo agreed. “See you.”

Ric waved and got into his car with Rodrigo.

Eduardo was about to get into the car when he heard a weird choking sound and the scrabble of fingers against fabric. He turned and saw that Mark was fighting with his vest, his fingers working frantically as he tried to work it off. “I can’t breathe,” he gasped, fingers slipping. “Wardo, get it off me – I can’t –”

Eduardo reached out and seized Mark’s hand. “Calm down,” he said softly. “I’ll get it for you.” He carefully undid the straps and helped Mark take the vest off. Mark sucked in a great, shuddering breath and clutched onto Eduardo’s arms. For one horrible moment, Eduardo wished he had killed Julian, too. Mark had never used to be afraid of anything.

“I’ve got you,” Eduardo said quietly, resisting the urge to draw Mark into his arms. “Just breathe, I’ve got you.”

Mark swallowed audibly and looked up at Eduardo, but his eyes were distant and it was obvious he’s not really _seeing_. “I –” he starts, voice faint. “They put a bag over my head, when they took me.”

“Mark, shh,” Eduardo said, cautiously reaching out to touch Mark’s arm. “You don’t need to – you don’t have to tell me about it.”

Mark gulped in another harsh breath and let it out slowly. “I – can I go home?”

“You should go to a hospital,” Eduardo said to Mark, taking Mark’s lack of response as permission to help him into the car.

“Probably,” Mark agreed, staring at Eduardo. His face was still pale. “You – you _killed_ him.”

“He was going to kill you,” Eduardo said. “Come on, Mark, get in the car.”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital,” Mark said sharply, voice cracking. “I want to go _home_.”

Eduardo looked at him, at the way Mark stood hunched in on himself, making himself smaller than usual. He bit back his instinctive insistence that he take Mark to the hospital – he knew full well they couldn’t afford the attention that would bring – and said, “All right, Mark. We’ll take you home.”

“Wait,” Mark said, seizing Eduardo’s arm. “Not my house. They – that’s where they –” He opened and closed his mouth soundly once or twice. Eduardo bit the inside of his lip so hard he thought he would bleed, and he rubbed a soothing hand across Mark’s shoulder.

“Okay, we’ll take you to a hotel.” Eduardo glanced at Maria. “Our place is safe?”

“Full of our people,” Maria said. “We should get moving, Eduardo.”

“I know.” Eduardo curved his arm around Mark’s shoulders and herded him into the car, throwing the spare Kevlar into the front seat. Mark was huddled in his own seat, looking very small. Eduardo nodded to Maria and they started out towards their hotel.

*

They hustled Mark through the back entrance of the hotel and got him up to Eduardo’s suite on the top floor. Once inside, Eduardo dug through his suitcase for a spare set of pajamas for Mark to borrow while Mark stood shivering in the doorway. He held out the clothes for Mark, careful not to touch him, and Mark took them without meeting Eduardo’s eyes before going into the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him, loud in the silence of the suite. Eduardo sat down on the edge of his bed and took his gun out of his holster. He looked at it for a long moment, then slowly dismantled it into its separate parts.

He lay back on the bed, breathing out slowly. The tight knot that had rested in his belly since he had received the ransom note had vanished at some point during the last couple of hours. Mark was safe and maybe not whole, but at least mostly all there. Eduardo closed his eyes and listened for the sound of the shower turning on.

Eduardo heard Mark pad into the room, soft and light against the rug. The mattress dipped under Mark’s weight; Eduardo turned onto his side so he could see what Mark was doing.

Mark had lain down next to him, his damp curls clinging to his forehead. He still looked awful, but he was at least clean now. His eyes roamed over Eduardo’s face, taking him in. Eduardo stayed silent, wanting to let Mark speak first.

“You came after me,” Mark said eventually. “They said they – I didn’t think you would come after me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Eduardo asked him, frowning. “Did you think I would leave you there?”

“I didn’t – I didn’t think you had a reason to come after me,” Mark said. “I haven’t heard from you in _years_ and Chris and Sean keep warning me – and they’re right, aren’t they? You’re – you’re a –” He faltered.

“My father,” Eduardo started, then he too stumbled, trying to find the right word. “My family is – very powerful in Brazil. We brought our business here when I was eleven. My father – he was shot in a failed attempt on his life about three years ago. I’ve been taking care of things since then.”

“You’re still not saying it,” Mark said, sounding frustrated. “You’re a mob boss, Wardo.”

Eduardo winced. “ _Chefe_ ,” he said quietly. “That’s what we say.”

Mark looked at him for a long moment, eyes huge and unblinking. “I never thought – you didn’t seem like the type.”

Eduardo shrugged. “People change, Mark. And someone had to take over the business.”

“Did it have to be you?” Mark asked. He didn’t wait for Eduardo’s response before he was shaking his head and rolling over onto his other side. “Never mind.”

“Mark,” Eduardo tried, but Mark didn’t move to look at him and Eduardo didn’t want to push too hard. He pulled the spare blanket over Mark’s thin shoulders and left the bedroom to sit on the hotel suite’s sofa, across from where Maria was already seated.

“How is he?” Maria asked, leaning back. She had drawn all the blinds, so it felt later than it actually was, only small slivers of the day’s fading light making it through.

“Overwhelmed,” Eduardo said eventually. “I think he’ll – I think he’ll be all right.”

Maria regarded him for a long moment. He fidgeted uncomfortably under her stare, knowing that she could read him better than anyone else in his life. “How are _you_?” she asked quietly.

Eduardo looked over towards the open bedroom door and said, “Better.”

She patted his arm and said, “I’ll make tea,” and rose to her feet. He sat back and closed his eyes, suddenly exhausted. His hands shook; he pressed them between his thighs and drew in a slow breath.

He heard the sound of water being poured into a mug and a few seconds later, Maria was gently prodding his knee. “Edu, come on,” she murmured quietly. “Drink some tea.”

He curled his hands around the mug without opening his eyes. It smelled rich and fragrant, like the tea his mother had drunk when he was a child. He brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply before finally opening his eyes. The steam rose in front of his face, and he took a cautious sip. It burned his mouth and throat, but he didn’t mind all that much because it shocked him into wakefulness. He gulped down a mouthful and looked at Maria, who had retaken her seat on the couch opposite him.

“I’m fine,” he told her, and he was surprised to realize that it was true. His heart had slowed to its normal rate, and he was calm now, knowing that Mark was lying safely in the next room. “Really.”

“All right,” she said. “You should call Elisa and tell her how things went.” She held out a phone. Eduardo took it and set the tea down before getting to his feet to call his cousin.

“How did it go?” Elisa asked without preamble once she picked up. “I assume nothing catastrophic happened.”

“Antony Rosato is dead,” Eduardo said bluntly. “But Julian is ready to deal with us.”

“And Zuckerberg?”

“Safe,” Eduardo said. “I’m going to get him back home as soon as possible.”

“Perfect. Your father will be glad to hear it.” There was a pause. Then Elisa said, “Eduardo?”

He started, realizing that he was meant to say something. He stared at the door to the bedroom, then asked abruptly, “What if I stepped down?”

“From what? The family?” Elisa laughed. “You could, I suppose, if you really wanted to – but what would you do? You think anyone would want to hire you?”

“I guess not,” Eduardo said with a sigh.

“What’s this about, Eduardo?” Elisa asked, a note of concern creeping into her voice. “Did something else happen?”

“No,” Eduardo said. “I was just – I just wanted to know. If it was an option.”

“It’s – Eduardo, if you really wanted it, we could make it work. You just – you couldn’t live a normal life. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Eduardo said, because he had accepted that reality the moment he picked up a gun and went to exact their version of justice upon his father’s attackers. It didn’t mean he always liked it.

But he had made his choice, and he would have to live with it.

“Thanks, Elisa,” he said. “Tell Pai – tell him it went fine.”

“I will,” she said quietly. “And Ric – he’s meeting with –”

“Yes, he’s meeting with Julian tomorrow. We have it under control.” He gripped the phone tightly, then let out a low breath. “We have it.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Let me know if there’s anything we need to do on our end.” She hung up and Eduardo stared at the phone in shock. It was the first time she had truly treated him like his father – berating aside – and it felt odd. She had _deferred_ to his judgement rather than telling him what to do.

He looked at the family ring that sat heavy on his right hand and knew with a kind of odd finality that there was no going back.

*

Eduardo slept on the suite sofa, knowing he would wake if Mark tried to leave. It wasn’t a particularly restful night, but he felt better upon waking. When he looked in on Mark, Mark was still curled up underneath the sheets, his mouth slack with sleep. Eduardo stood in the doorway, transfixed by the sight. He wanted to trace his fingers down the curve of Mark’s cheekbone, across the bridge of his nose, around the edges of his lips. He wanted to reassure himself that Mark was _safe_ and whole and real.

Instead, he just watched Mark sleep until he heard Maria start the coffee maker, and then he closed the door again, his hands steady against the wood.

He drank a cup of coffee and then spent the rest of the morning on his phone, communicating with his lieutenants back in Miami and New York, then calling Ric and discussing strategy with him.

“I think Julian is scared,” Ric said. “Antony was the brash one. Julian is more cautious. And Louisa told me he came by to talk to her last night. He knows we weren’t bluffing about the families.”

“Get our shipping territory back,” Eduardo said. “Demand they back off of our imports.”

“Yes, I know, Edu. I will take care of this.” Ric’s voice softened slightly, his accent slipping in. “You take care of Zuckerberg. He needs you now.”

“No, he needs –” Eduardo traced a finger around the rim of his mug. “I don’t know. Not me. Someone who isn’t – what I am. Who I am.”

“He needs you,” Ric said firmly. “I will call you and let you know how it goes, Edu.”

“Thank you, Ric,” Eduardo said and he hung up. He looked at the cup of coffee, then picked it up and carried it to the bedroom door. He knocked lightly to no response. He nudged it open and slipped inside.

He set the mug down next to Mark’s bed and hesitated, his hand hovering over Mark’s shoulder. Before he could decide, Mark solved his quandary by rolling over and blinking owlishly up at Eduardo, his mouth pressed together in a thin line.

“What’s going on?” Mark asked, words slurring together with exhaustion. He already looked better than he had the day before, the color starting to come back to his thin cheeks. But Eduardo didn’t like the way Mark’s eyes were shadowed or the slightly feverish glint in his eyes. “Am I going home?”

“Not yet,” Eduardo said gently. “We have a few things to take care of first. Are you ready to go back?”

“I think so,” Mark said. “I can face it now.”

Eduardo paused, already knowing what the answer to his next question would be, but asked anyway. “Have you ever considered getting protection?”

Mark’s lips soundlessly formed the word _protection_ before he shook his head emphatically. “No, never, I don’t need –”

“You do now,” Eduardo said, sinking down on the edge of the bed. Mark struggled to sit upright, tangled in the sheets, and glared at Eduardo.

“I only need them because –”

“Because of me, I know, but you should have them anyway, Mark, you’re the CEO of a –”

“I’ve been through this with Chris –”

“For God’s sake, Mark!” Eduardo burst out. “I want you to be _safe_! How do you not get that?”

“Why do you – why do you _care_?” snapped Mark. “You don’t – I haven’t seen you since – and now?”

“You’re my –” Eduardo said, floundering for the right word. “I don’t – Mark, I would never let you get hurt. Not if it was something I could have stopped. It’s not your fault that I – none of this is your fault.”

“But you hate me,” Mark said, staring at Eduardo. His eyes looked feverish and bright; Eduardo pressed down on his urge to test the heat of Mark’s forehead.

“I don’t,” Eduardo said quietly. “I really, really don’t, Mark.”

“ _Why not_?” Mark demanded, his hoarse voice cracking, and Eduardo couldn’t stop himself anymore. He leaned forward, being sure to move slowly in case Mark wanted to get away, and reached out to curve a hand around the back of Mark’s neck. Mark shivered, but didn’t move, not breaking eye contact.

Eduardo kissed him, gentle and unassuming. Mark still didn’t move, but he didn’t go stiff either; he let out a small noise, though, one that Eduardo might not have noticed if it hadn’t buzzed against his lips like a secret.

Eduardo pulled away after only a few seconds and said, “Mark, I’ve never hated you. That was the problem.”

Mark’s eyes had widened and his mouth had fallen slightly open. His lips worked for a moment, as if struggling for words, and then he said, “ _Wardo_ ,” and surged up to pull Eduardo into his arms.

*

Mark eventually stopped kissing Eduardo, even though his fingers traced the planes of Eduardo’s cheeks, his touch featherlight and almost tickling. Eduardo watched him, heart beating a warning against his ribs.

“I – they told me it was for you,” Mark said haltingly, voice catching slightly in his throat. “I didn’t ever – Chris told me, he was afraid someone else would tell me first and he wanted me to hear it from him before Sean – I knew. I knew about your family, obviously, but I never thought you would join them. But they told me, and it was the first time I actually knew that you had – that I knew what you had been doing since you walked out of the offices.”

“Mark –” Eduardo started, frowning.

“And I realized, as I sat there, that I wanted you to be the one to find me.” Mark’s fingers came to rest at the edge of Eduardo’s lips. “I knew it would be you. You always – you were always there for me. Even when I thought I didn’t need you.”

Eduardo turned his head to kiss Mark’s fingertips. “I always will be.”

Mark closed his eyes and curled up into Eduardo, pressing his overheated forehead into Eduardo’s neck. Eduardo let his arm rest gently over Mark’s waist and stared, unseeing, at the wall.

*

He took Mark home later that day and called Chris from the bathroom while Mark banged around the kitchen and fed his very energetic, very fluffy dog. “He’s safe,” he told Chris. “But you need to make him get bodyguards or something. I can’t – I know I can’t leave him with some of my people. It’s bad enough I own stock in the company, I can’t make it look like I’m sheltering him or using him.”

“Yes,” Chris said. “And he’s – he’s all right?”

“I think he might be a little sick,” Eduardo said, “but he’ll be fine in a few days. I’ll stay with him until you get someone here to look after him.”

“Eduardo, I –” Chris hesitated. “You know I can’t approve of what you do now, but I still _like_ you. I’m sorry things couldn’t have –” He seemed to lose his train of thought.

Eduardo took pity on him after a moment and said, “I know. Apologize to Dustin for me, please?”

“I will,” Chris promised. “Take care of Mark.”

When Eduardo returned to the kitchen, Mark was actually making food while slipping pieces of chicken to his dog. Eduardo watched him for a moment, remembering that Mark was a different person now than the boy he had known at Harvard. But then, Eduardo was different too. The years had just been kinder to Mark.

Mark turned and smiled at him. “It isn’t much, but I thought maybe you would want to eat. You haven’t eaten all day.”

“No,” Eduardo agreed, looking back at his phone. He had only received one message from Ric – a simple _things went well_ – and nothing from anyone else. He didn’t want to call them in front of Mark, but he needed to know what was happening. “What are you making?”

“Pasta,” Mark said, looking back at the stove. “Chris taught me how, my first year here.” His movements were small, tight. After a long pause, he said, “Did they ever tell you that I almost got mugged?”

Eduardo dropped his phone. He swore under his breath and leaned down to pick it up, checking the screen for scratches so he doesn’t have to look at Mark’s face until he has composed himself. “You were?”

Mark shrugged, as casual as ever. “It wasn’t a big deal,” he said, pouring the pasta into a colander. “I think he was on something.” He looked at Eduardo. “I just wanted you to know – you didn’t – that wasn’t the first time I looked down the barrel of a gun. You didn’t ruin me or whatever it is you’re thinking.”

Eduardo winced, because that was _exactly_ what he had been thinking since he had first gotten the news. “It doesn’t change the fact that you were put in danger because of me.”

“No,” Mark agreed, “but you need to know that _I don’t care_.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and came around the side of counter to stand in front of Eduardo. “I – I thought I was never going to see you again and now you’re here. Because I was in danger.”

“Because of _me_ ,” Eduardo tried to stress. Mark undermined him by leaning up on his toes and kissing him, closed-mouth and innocent.

“I have red sauce and white sauce,” Mark said. “What do you want?”

“Red,” Eduardo said. While Mark’s back was turned, he sent a text to Ric that read, _I need to talk to you_.

The reply was almost instantaneous. _I know._

“Elisa,” Eduardo muttered under his breath. He shook his head; he would deal with that later. “Do you have bread?”

“No,” Mark said. “I have beer.”

“That’s acceptable,” Eduardo allowed, and he sat down at Mark’s kitchen island, watching him move around with easy familiarity. “Mark – you know we can’t – we can’t be together right now.”

“Why not?” Mark asked without turning around. “And don’t tell me about the media or the press, because Chris is good at his job and he’s training his replacement so well that she’s going to be better.”

“Chris is leaving Facebook?” Eduardo asked, momentarily side-tracked.

“He was always going to.” Mark’s shoulders slumped just the slightest bit. “He – he’s better than this. He wants to change the world.” He straightened up. “And not in the way Facebook does.”

“Yeah, I know.” Eduardo shook his head. “But – aside from the press, Mark, you know that if anyone – I’m not exactly an unknown quantity anymore. It can’t look like I’m exerting influence on you.”

Mark slammed the refrigerator shut and whirled around to glare at Eduardo. “I just got you back, I’m not letting you leave again.”

“Mark –”

“No,” Mark said harshly. “It’s – I know it could hurt me, but _I’m smart_ and so are you, Eduardo. If any two people – three if you count Chris and four if you count Leila – could deal with this –”

“No, Mark!” Eduardo snapped. Mark’s mouth snapped shut, his eyes murderous. “I _can’t_ , not if it endangers you and not if it endangers Facebook.”

“Why do you care about Facebook?” demanded Mark. “This isn’t about Facebook, Eduardo!”

“No, it’s not, Mark. It’s about you and I won’t do anything to hurt you, not ever again,” Eduardo said, not even able to find the energy to yell anymore. “You will never understand what it felt like to get that ransom note and know that _I_ caused that. I’m the one responsible for the bruises on your body and the bruise on your face and the fever that you have now.”

“You didn’t kidnap me.”

“But I made myself dangerous enough, and I – you’re my weakness, Mark.” Eduardo tried a smile, but it slid off his face at the still-furious look on Mark’s face. “You always have been. I’m beginning to think you always will be.”

“So you’re cutting me out?” Mark spat. “Sounds pretty familiar, don’t you think?”

Eduardo jerked back and bit the inside of his lip. “Mark, that isn’t it.”

“Fine,” said Mark. “It’s not. Whatever you tell yourself to make it easier –”

“I will sleep easier when I know you’re safe, and I am _working on that_ ,” Eduardo said. “I promise if there is _any_ way –”

“Eduardo,” Mark said, and he looked small again, his shoulders hunched in. He refused to meet Eduardo’s eyes. “I don’t want you to leave. I feel safer with you here.”

“I have to,” said Eduardo. “Just for a little while, Mark. But I’ll come back. I promise you that. I will _always_ come back.” Until that exact moment, he hadn’t fully made his decision, but he knew now what he had to do. “I’ll stay the night.”

Mark finally looked at him again and said, “Good.”

Eduardo hadn’t intended for it to happen, but their post-lunch movie turned into post-lunch kisses, and then post-lunch groping, Mark boldly reaching down between their bodies and unzipping Eduardo’s trousers with his thin, dexterous fingers. “Mark,” Eduardo gasped against the pale column of Mark’s neck, “you don’t –”

“If you’re going away for a while, I want this. In case your plan doesn’t work,” Mark said, and he slithered down Eduardo’s body, pulling the trousers along with him.

After, Mark curled up in Eduardo’s arms, warm and sleepy. He was still running a fever, but Eduardo couldn’t bring himself to wake him in order to make him take more Tylenol. Instead he carded his fingers through Mark’s curls and closed his eyes, smiling to himself.

*

Ric met him at the airport, somehow managing to look both satisfied and concerned. They didn’t speak in the car ride, which made Eduardo’s anxiety ratchet up a few more notches. Once they were inside the house, Ric looked at Eduardo expectantly.

“We should – Pai should be there too,” Eduardo said, looking vaguely towards their father’s study. “Is he –?”

“He’s doing much better now that he knows the Rosatos won’t be a problem any longer.” Ric looked at Eduardo. “I think I know what you’re going to say.”

“I only want to say it once,” said Eduardo quietly. Ric nodded and lead the way into their father’s study.

“Pai,” Ric said. “Edu’s home.”

Their father looked up and smile. “I hear it went well.”

“It did, Pai,” Eduardo said, and Ric echoed him softly.

“And your boy?” his father asked shrewdly, looking at Eduardo. “He’s fine?”

“Yes and – that’s why I’m here.” Eduardo took a deep breath. “Pai, I’m in love with him.”

His father set down his pen and leaned back in his seat. “I know.”

Eduardo, who had been expecting a much more explosive reaction, blinked and floundered for words before eventually settling on, “What?”

“I’ve known since you first mentioned him,” his father said, a smile playing around the edges of his lips. “And when you decided that you weren’t going to listen to me when it came to him. I told my father the same thing when I met your mother.” He looked at Eduardo for a long moment. “You were always – you’re good at this. But you weren’t born for it, not like Ric.” He inclined his head. “And your situation with Mr. Zuckerberg is much different than mine. So you want your brother to take full control of the family, am I right?”

“Yes,” Eduardo said, looking to Ric. “I know he can handle it.”

“And what will you do?” his father asked, leaning forward.

“I don’t know yet,” Eduardo said, “but it doesn’t matter.”

His father smiled at him; it looked a little sad. “I always told you that you can’t let emotion get in the way of business, because I thought that was what you needed to hear. But I should have told you the other part – that you can’t let business get in the way of your emotions, either.”

*

Eduardo wiped his hands on his trousers, irrationally nervous, then reached out and rang the doorbell. A casual look around the front porch and yard told him that Mark had upgraded his security, and he could just barely hear the sound of heavier footsteps behind the front door. There was a pause, then Mark opened the door, saying, “It’s fine, I know him,” to the tall man lurking just out of sight.

“Hi,” Eduardo said.

“Hi.” Mark stepped out onto the porch with Eduardo and said, “You came back.”

“I told you I would,” Eduardo said, and then they were kissing, Mark’s hands tangled in his hair, his own hands slipping under the hem of Mark’s shirt. Mark let out a small noise of protest when Eduardo pulled back to breathe, but compensated by nosing underneath Eduardo’s left ear.

“You’re staying this time?” Mark asked, warm breath caressing Eduardo’s skin.

“For a little while, at least,” Eduardo said. “And I’ll come back.”

“Good,” Mark said, and he pulled Eduardo inside his house, closing the door behind them.


End file.
